The Chronicle of a Rat Flail
by JWNoctis
Summary: Set immediately after the incident of "Skittles", Leo had a vision about his most recent antic. Intended to be a humorous parody, read on with discretion. Rated T for language.


_Mock heroic with fake limerick,_

_Stupidity and bizarreness mixed with wack,_

_Blatantly just for fun._

_Read on please, at your own risk,_

_Remember, you've been warned!_

_

* * *

_

Darkness surrounded him.

Beyond his comprehension, the Darkness surrounded him, shrouded him, strangled him. He could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing. As there is nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard, nothing to be felt. Nothing nil. He feared.

"_Hear me!_" A lightning flashed through the darkest sky, a high-pitched bellow resounded in his head. But he did not see, for his eyes were densely clouded by confusion; and he did not hear, for his ears were closely shut by fear.

"_Hear me, Leo!_" Like a thousand Sun, a thousand scornful beam of light, all the way through the shroud of Darkness, stroke him in the very center of his mortal soul. His eyes bolted open, and glory flooded his mind. A figure appeared before him. A pink one, how peculiar.

"_How peculiar? You fool._"

* * *

"_Trust me, I've tried._" With the same sardonic high-pitched voice, the figure before him opened up. "_But I've lost count. How many times you've been here, my Champion? A googolplex?_" He remained silent, a red shade seeped into the white on his cheek. "_Ah! Today must be my lucky day! A mute Leo…Speak up!_" With a slight pause, the voice continued with a giggle. "_And make it fast! I've got duties to attend to!_" "_I-_" "_So you're on it again, my Champion? To be honest, I'm almost tired of all this. I know, it's that Krug again, right? Always that 'Circle', how unsurprising._"

Midst a stroll around her Champion, the figure stopped right behind him. "_With what this time? Nothing? What's this? Surprise him to death with your indecency? Very funny._" He gulped. "_Poor bastard…Take this, as useful as a towel, I tell ya._"

Just like a miracle, something emerged within his grasp. Examining his newfound treasure with his eyes, he questioned weakly. "_A stick?_" Like a viper, the stick slammed him on the forehead. He felt like a fool.

"_You fool._" The voice recounted behind him. "_Have you never seen a club before? Actually one of those useful artifacts. Just trying to help._" Still behind him, the figure smiled. "_Retrieve that amulet for me, my Champion. The Amulet of Yendor, not the fake one. Go with honor._"

Just as expected, our Champion felt a gentle push on his back, as a plunging sensation filled his mortal mind, just the way it always was. Once more unto the breach, and one more chance to face his fate, nothing different this time.

Or was it?

* * *

_Once again, wide awoke in the dungeon._

_As always, damp floor, mouldy ceiling, ozon-_

_Wait, wait, wait, ozone in the air?_

_He couldn't tell, but he could smell._

_Something was definitely on._

_Confusion didn't make it long,_

_Obvious it was, like his fang._

_Either another stupid crossover,_

_Or something he won't know ever._

_Stupid either way, dang!_

_Lightning arced around, bounced on the wall,_

_One, two, three, three figures in total._

_Two rats, and one maned_

_Maned? He wondered._

_Sinistar? Hel-lo?_

_High above in some godly somewhere,_

_She wondered, with much fervor._

_Will he get that amulet, this time?_

_Fat chance, or better than a dime?_

_Ah. That stick. A tale of glamour._

_Heart of largest tree in the overworld,_

_In one piece, with a single stroke._

_Cut by the goddess of Sarcasm,_

_What an artifact, shiny with gleam,_

_No irony, she smirked._

_An eagle has spotted a rabbit,_

_Ms. Sarcasm has spotted a tidbit._

_Besides her urea-poisoned Champion,_

_Something else has called her attention._

_Buffed electric rat, what a misfit._

_Dice fall everyone rocks,_

_Rocks fall everyone dies._

_All with a simple flip of wording,_

_She watched on, pondering._

_Hammer of smiting, hope that works._

He watched, as the epic battle unfolded itself before him, the thought of Sinistar filled his mind. He did not flinch a bit, as a fork of lightning sizzled itself through him, what he was seeing was already too much for his mortal soul, as if a Sinistar was not enough. He watched on, like an eternity.

"_Hold!_" A high-pitched voice bellowed, and the damp walls shuddered. The scene was frozen, the time was stopped. He watched on, now with pure terror and confusion, as the figures before him slowly disintegrated, as if being wiped clean by an eraser. All but one of them. How peculiar.

There was another bellow. However, before he could make out any of it, he was already in the air, mauled by the vengeful fury of the rat-kind over the entire geographical history clearly off his feet, and slammed into the next obstacle with a sickening crunch.

Finally coming back to focus, he watched as the red-eyed peril charged toward him. With one of his last bits of energy, and the full intention to make a rat-kabob, he raised his stick, in the same way an ancient soldier would have raised his weapon against a cavalry charge, in what seemed to be the last moments of his life. He waited.

* * *

Bleeding and torn, our Champion stood his ground. His artifact club was couched on his hand, and his emerald eyes, streaked with blood and fury, pierced right into the dim red of his adversary's. The inevitable was about to happen.

A thunder boomed across the shuddering dungeon, a bolt of blinding glory emerged from nowhere, and everywhere. A deafening screech of teeth against stone assaulted the ear of our Champion. What an anticlimax! He glanced on the dead sack of meat right before him, and lowered his stick. How peculiar, he mumbled.

Comets had struck the Jupiter, the Champion had got an idea. Mustering his strength, he crafted an artifact with an artifact, and a dead rat. Grievous harm with a body, how sarcastic. Like a scepter, he raised his new weapon above his head. "I name thee, Rat-Flail!"

"_Leo?_" With pride on his face, our Champion swept around, and saw a face. It was Sinistar. A single swing was all it takes.

* * *

"_Aw! What are you doing?_" Ternaldo screamed in pain, as he clutched his head and backed away from Leo. A roundhouse punch. Aw.

"_Umm…Eh?_" As if just woken up, Leo mumbled in confusion. "_Where's Krug?_"

"_Just disappeared. Quite a lightshow…I don't know._" Ternaldo replied. "_And what's with that? Also…Wasn't you here as well?_"

"_Um, never mind._" Leo muttered, still confused.

"_Never mind? What's with that punch?_" Ternaldo inquired. Knowing better than to wait for a coherent answer, he continued with a glee. "_Anyway, it's your turn. You did this. That rat-flail's yours after all. Good luck talking her out of this_."

And once more, the wielder of the Rat-Flail started the trek toward his fate, kicking Krug's Skittles away in a fit of despair. "How peculiar…" He murmured.

* * *

_A tale of Stupidity,_

_A tale of Irony,_

_A tale of Jabberwocky,_

_The Chronicle of a Rat-Flail._

VG Cats ©2001-2011 Scott Ramsoomair


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